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THE HANDLE, which varies in length according to the height of its user, and in some cases is made by that user to his or her specifications, is like most of the other parts of the tool in that it has a name and thus a character of its own. I call it the snath, as do most of us in the UK, though variations include the snathe, the snaithe, the snead, and the sned. Onto the snath are attached two hand grips, adjusted for the height of the user.

On the bottom of the snath is a small hole, a rubberized protector, and a metal D-ring with two hex sockets. Into this little assemblage slides the tang of the blade. This thin crescent of steel is the fulcrum of the whole tool. From the genus blade fans out a number of ever-evolving species, each seeking out and colonizing new niches. I also have a couple of ditch blades which, despite the name, are not used for mowing ditches in particular, but are all-purpose cutting tools that can manage anything from fine grass to tousled brambles and a bush blade, which is as thick as a billhook and can take down small trees.

These are the big mammals you can see and hear. Beneath and around them scuttle any number of harder-to-spot competitors for the summer grass, all finding their place in the ecosystem of the tool. None of them, of course, is any use at all unless it is kept sharp, really sharp: You need to take a couple of stones out into the field with you and use them regularly—every five minutes or so—to keep the edge honed.

And you need to know how to use your peening anvil, and when. When the edge of your blade thickens with overuse and oversharpening, you need to draw the edge out by peening it—cold-forging the blade with hammer and small anvil. Probably you never master it, just as you never really master anything. That lack of mastery, and the promise of one day reaching it, is part of the complex beauty of the tool.

Etymology can be interesting. Scythe , originally rendered sithe , is an Old English word, indicating that the tool has been in use in these islands for at least a thousand years. But archaeology pushes that date much further out; Roman scythes have been found with blades nearly two meters long. Basic, curved cutting tools for use on grass date back at least ten thousand years, to the dawn of agriculture and thus to the dawn of civilizations.

Like the tool, the word, too, has older origins. The Proto-Indo-European root of scythe is the word sek , meaning to cut, or to divide. Sek is also the root word of sickle, saw, schism, sex , and science. Some books do that, from time to time, and this is beginning to shape up as one of them.

By his own admission, his arguments are not new. But the clarity with which he makes them, and his refusal to obfuscate, are refreshing. I seem to be at a point in my life where I am open to hearing this again. Technological progress is carrying us to inevitable disaster. Only the collapse of modern technological civilization can avert disaster.

What is needed is a new revolutionary movement, dedicated to the elimination of technological society. I have a tendency toward sentimentality around these issues, so I appreciate his discipline. There are two reasons for this. Firstly, if I do end up agreeing with him—and with other such critics I have been exploring recently, such as Jacques Ellul and D. Lewis and Ivan Illich—I am going to have to change my life in quite profound ways.

It has a broadband connection and all sorts of fancy capabilities I have never tried or wanted to use. I mainly use it for typing. You might think this makes me a hypocrite, and you might be right, but there is a more interesting observation you could make. This, says Kaczynski, is where we all find ourselves, until and unless we choose to break out. In his own case, he explains, he had to go through a personal psychological collapse as a young man before he could escape what he saw as his chains.

He explained this in a letter in I knew what I wanted: To go and live in some wild place. I did not know even one person who would have understood why I wanted to do such a thing. So, deep in my heart, I felt convinced that I would never be able to escape from civilization. Because I found modern life absolutely unacceptable, I grew increasingly hopeless until, at the age of 24, I arrived at a kind of crisis: But when I reached that point a sudden change took place: Therefore I could do anything I wanted.

At the beginning of the s, Kaczynski moved to a small cabin in the woods of Montana where he worked to live a self-sufficient life, without electricity, hunting and fishing and growing his own food. He lived that way for twenty-five years, trying, initially at least, to escape from civilization. More cabins were built in his woods, roads were enlarged, loggers buzzed through his forests. More planes passed overhead every year. One day, in August , Kaczynski set out hiking toward his favorite wild place:.

The best place, to me, was the largest remnant of this plateau that dates from the Tertiary age. That summer there were too many people around my cabin so I decided I needed some peace. I went back to the plateau and when I got there I found they had put a road right through the middle of it. It was from that point on I decided that, rather than trying to acquire further wilderness skills, I would work on getting back at the system. I can identify with pretty much every word of this, including, sometimes, the last one.

Ted Kaczynski was known to the FBI as the Unabomber during the seventeen years in which he sent parcel bombs from his shack to those he deemed responsible for the promotion of the technological society he despises. In those two decades he killed three people and injured twenty-four others. His targets lost eyes and fingers and sometimes their lives. He nearly brought down an airplane.

Advanced technologies, he explained, created dependency; they took tools and processes out of the hands of individuals and put them into the metaphorical hands of organizations. In exchange for flashing lights and throbbing engines, they lost the things that should be most valuable to a human individual: It applied more widely to social and economic life. A few years back I wrote a book called Real England , which was also about conviviality, as it turned out. In particular, it was about how human-scale, vernacular ways of life in my home country were disappearing, victims of the march of the machine.

Small shops were crushed by supermarkets, family farms pushed out of business by the global agricultural market, ancient orchards rooted up for housing developments, pubs shut down by developers and state interference. What the book turned out to be about, again, was autonomy and control: Critics of that book called it nostalgic and conservative, as they do with all books like it.

If you want human-scale living, you doubtless do need to look backward. If there was an age of human autonomy, it seems to me that it probably is behind us. It is certainly not ahead of us, or not for a very long time; not unless we change course, which we show no sign of wanting to do. Then they were buried, by Thatcher and Reagan, by three decades of cheap oil and shopping. Lauded as visionaries at first, at least by some, they became mocked as throwbacks by those who remembered them.

Another orthodoxy is in its death throes. What happens next is what interests me, and worries me too. Writing is fulfilling too, intellectually and sometimes emotionally, but physically it is draining and boring: Mowing with a scythe shuts down the jabbering brain for a little while, or at least the rational part of it, leaving only the primitive part, the intuitive reptile consciousness, working fully.

Using a scythe properly is a meditation: You concentrate without thinking, you follow the lay of the ground with the face of your blade, you are aware of the keenness of its edge, you can hear the birds, see things moving through the grass ahead of you. Focus—relaxed focus—is the key to mowing well. Tolstoy, who obviously wrote from experience, explained it in Anna Karenina:. The longer Levin went on mowing, the oftener he experienced those moments of oblivion when his arms no longer seemed to swing the scythe, but the scythe itself his whole body, so conscious and full of life; and as if by magic, regularly and definitely without a thought being given to it, the work accomplished itself of its own accord.

These were blessed moments. People come to my courses for all kinds of reasons, but most want to learn to use the tool for a practical purpose. Sometimes they are managing wildlife reserves or golf courses. Some of them want to control sedge grass or nettles or brambles in their fields or gardens, or destroy couch grass on their allotments.

Some of them want to trim lawns or verges. After all, we have weed whackers and lawnmowers now, and they are noisier than scythes and have buttons and use electricity or petrol and therefore they must perform better, right? Now, I would say this of course, but no, it is not right. Certainly if you have a five-acre meadow and you want to cut the grass for hay or silage, you are going to get it done a lot quicker though not necessarily more efficiently with a tractor and cutter bar than you would with a scythe team, which is the way it was done before the s.

Down at the human scale, though, the scythe still reigns supreme. A growing number of people I teach, for example, are looking for an alternative to a brushcutter. A brushcutter is essentially a mechanical scythe. It is a great heavy piece of machinery that needs to be operated with both hands and requires its user to dress up like Darth Vader in order to swing it through the grass.

It roars like a motorbike, belches out fumes, and requires a regular diet of fossil fuels. It hacks through the grass instead of slicing it cleanly like a scythe blade. It is more cumbersome, more dangerous, no faster, and far less pleasant to use than the tool it replaced.

And yet you see it used everywhere:

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Orion Magazine | Dark Ecology

One of the happiest pairings for couples? Researchers hypothesize this may be because the relationship has one person who enjoys being taken care of, and one who's used to taking care of others.

According to a UCLA study , couples who agree to share chores at home are more likely to be happier in their relationships. In other words, when you know what to do and what's expected with you, you tend to be happier both yourself and with your spouse. This might be a good thing to sit down and discuss in the new year, especially if you're newly cohabitating.

In a recent study of 5, people, researchers found that gay couples are " happier and more positive " about their relationships than their heterosexual counterparts. If you're going to be hetero, though, you're better off being feminist. The name of the study? Levels of attractiveness within couples has long been the subject of debate not to mention song lyrics. The opposite was not true--when husbands thought they were better-looking, they weren't as happy.

In , Facebook released a report that analyzed 1. Couples with overlapping social networks tended to be less likely to break up--especially when that closeness included "social dispersion," or the introduction of one person's sphere to the other, and vice versa. In other words, the best-case scenario is when each person has their own circle, but the two also overlap.

The two biggest things couples fight about are sex and money. When it comes to the latter, it's well-known to psychologists as well as social scientists that for some reason, people tend to attract their spending opposite.

Big spenders tend to attract thrifty people, and vice versa. A University of Michigan study corroborated this. Walk outside and kiss the rain whenever you need me. We may be millions of miles apart from each other, it just added for the Love that we have, because we both know that time will come that we will be together until forever. What greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they are joined… to strengthen each other… to be at one with each other in silent unspeakable memories.

Scream it loud, drown it out by the sound of the rain. I need you more right now than I ever did! Distance is to love like wind is to fire…it extinguishes the small and kindles the great! Your absence has not taught me how to be alone, it merely has shown that when together we cast a single shadow on the wall. One kind kiss before we part, drop a tear and bid adieu; Though we sever, my fond heart till we meet shall pant for you. When you feel alone, just look at the spaces between your fingers, remember that in those spaces you can see my fingers locked with yours forever.

I miss you as soon as I wake up. I love you, even through the miles…. Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire. Behind every strong soldier, there is an even stronger woman who stands behind him, supports him, and loves him with all her heart. Little did I know it then and am only realizing it now how much fuller and complete things feel with your presence.

Even though far in distance never doubt you are close to my heart. Thank you for all your inspiration, my muse, my glowing candlelight in the darkness.

My dearest wish is that I may inspire others as you have done me. For truly, we are all here to help and inspire, to love and be loved.

Anything less is just surviving, not truly living. So once again I thank you, for being the being that you are. We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere. Though space restraint us from being together, one thing I am sure of, there are no spaces in my heart that restraining me from loving you….

The stars lean down to kiss you. As I lie awake I miss you. Whenever one fails the other will cause the break. That farewell kiss which resembles greeting, that last glance of love which becomes the sharpest pang of sorrow. I miss you when I laugh and cry because I know that you are the one that makes my laughter grow and my tears disappear. I miss you all the time, but I miss you the most when I lay awake at night, and think of all the wonderful times that we spent with each other for those were some of the best and most memorable times of my life.

It would be impossible to love anyone or anything one knew completely. Love is directed towards what lies hidden in its object. For anything worth having one must pay the price; and the price is always work, patience, love, self-sacrifice.

There is only one key to my heart. If you truly love something, give it a chance to fail. If it survives, it is going to be stronger than ever. Distance is the test, distance is the proof.

That means that I wish you were here, I want you near me, I crave your touch. Some couples think that long distance affects their relationship badly and love will But loving from a distance can test how strong this feeling is and how much The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. Leading and sustaining a good marriage takes something--here's what science says helps. what they've always wanted (a long-term partnership with children), but the reality of kids Social Psychology, when husbands view their wives as the more attractive of the pair, Joy, after all, multiplies with love. Age does not protect you from love, but love to some extent protects you from age . Love is often the fruit of marriage. Uplifting And Beautiful Love Quotes . Love sometimes wants to do us a great favor: hold us upside down and shake all .